


In the Silence that Follows

by nothing_is_beautiful_and_true



Category: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Drama, Established Relationship, F/M, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-15 22:02:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11240145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothing_is_beautiful_and_true/pseuds/nothing_is_beautiful_and_true
Summary: Arturia and Gilgamesh have a terrible row.





	In the Silence that Follows

**Author's Note:**

> Funnily enough, I got the idea for this while talking to my assistant coach at soccer practice. He was telling me about how raising children and managing your marriage are the two most difficult things in life. I doubt he envisioned me using his advice as inspiration to write shitty fanfiction. Lol. Well done, Dave. 
> 
> Also, this gets filthy at the end. You've been warned.

_“I've always loved you, and when you love someone, you love the whole person, just as he or she is, and not as you would like them to be.”_

The door slams shut with a bang of finality. She hears the growl of the car engine. The garage rumbles open and then closes.

Arturia stands in the living room. Face white. Her hands ball into fists. Green eyes blaze hot and bright. She is fucking livid.

Gilgamesh's words still echo throughout the cavernous space. They have their own weight and shape to them. He always imbues his statements with a conviction that grants them life. It is the secret that every great orator understands; words have power. And Gilgamesh wields that power better than anyone, when he feels like it.

Arturia stands in the living room.

Alone.

She seethes. She fumes.

Her thoughts buzz about, rapid and furious. They are a stirred hornets nest, provoked into a frenzy. The argument between her and Gilgamesh plays in her head over and over again. It is like watching a horror movie, only Arturia cannot shut her eyes nor close her ears.

They have never fought before. Bickering, yes. Mild irritation, absolutely. Heated debates over political and ideological differences, always. But never have they argued to the degree of pointed bitterness and loathing on Arturia's end, and passionate rage and disgust on Gilgamesh's.

She still tastes her shouted barbs on her tongue, a bracken flavor akin to dead wood. Gilgamesh's hurled accusations cut deeper than any sword. There is no medicine that soothes mangled pride.

Finally Arturia moves.

She storms through the house and into the kitchen. She enjoys cooking. It is methodical. Follow a specific set of instructions to get intended results. If the results aren't very good and the instructions were followed, then the issue lays with the recipe and not with the cook.

Arturia takes comfort in that fact. She does not consider herself imaginative, and thus she knows she'll never be a _great_ cook. But Arturia understands how to work within the bounds of what is written, and that makes her a _good_ cook.

As Arturia prepares dinner, she rips open cabinets and drawers with more force than necessary. Her movements are clipped and precise. She decides to cook fish and chips. Arturia hates fish and chips. But it is something she knows. And what Arturia needs right then is something familiar. Whether or not she likes it is irrelevant.

Oil sizzles in the pot. Arturia chops potatoes with an intense fervor. She wonders, for the first time, blinded by anger, what she even sees in Gilgamesh. He is an arrogant and selfish ass. He cares about nothing.

Time passes and she stews in silence. Arturia’s fury abates. A growing sense of shame replaces it. She regrets what she said to Gilgamesh; neither covered themselves in glory. The fight has been long brewing, Arturia reflects, bubbling beneath the surface. As the novelty of being together wore off, their particular quirks became far less charming and far more grating on their respective nerves.

Arturia contemplates extending an olive branch when Gilgamesh returns. But part of her is still upset, and her pride despises being the first to apologize. She feels more miserable than she has in years. Her eyes burn but she doesn’t shed tears.

The fish and chips are finished about two hours later. Arturia arranges them into neat and organized patterns. It helps her feel more in control. She eats but barely registers the taste, and what does register evokes disdain.

Gilgamesh hasn’t come home yet. He will probably spend the night at Kirei’s apartment. Her lip curls. Arturia cleans her mess, but leaves some leftovers in the fridge. Food may improve Gilgamesh's temperament.

In the end, Arturia compromises her pride, because relationships are a series of compromises.

She goes to bed. But it feels too large and empty without Gilgamesh there. Arturia has grown accustomed to sleeping beside another person. Many a night his steady breathing lulls her into her own dreams. Now Atruria is restless and nightmares plague her sleep.

When Arturia wakes the next morning, she is grainy eyed and has a headache. Gilgamesh is nowhere in sight. Arturia showers and changes and leaves for work.

Little at her job improves her mood. Her client has been accused of assault with intent to murder. He has apparently stabbed his best friend. He is a young man and looks soft and sweet. He tells Arturia, his mother, his father, and anyone who will listen that he didn’t do it. She harbors doubts but doesn’t reveal them.

Innocent until proven guilty. Innocent until proven guilty. Innocent until proven guilty.

It is a mantra Arturia has ingrained in her consciousness since becoming a defense attorney. She supposes she has Gilgamesh to thank for her change in career.

_Arturia had returned from a military stint overseas. She’d been discharged with the highest honors, and she never wanted to go back ever again. When Arturia closed her eyes she could see the bombs and buildings exploding behind them, over and over on repeat._

_She went to the bar. That was where she met Gilgamesh._

_He looked as miserable as she felt. His clothes were expensive but unkempt. His hair was an uncombed mess and he sported a five o’clock shadow. He nursed his drink, isolated in a corner. Arturia approached him, because he was hurting and it was her natural instinct to help others in need. Of course, the effort was futile, because she couldn't help herself, much less anyone else, but that didn't stop Arturia from trying._

_“What’s wrong?”_

_“You could never understand.”_

_“Why not?”_

_“Because I’m beyond the average person’s capacity to comprehend.”_

_“How arrogant.”_

_“I am who I am.”_

_“Fine.”_

_She left him alone, then. Arturia stayed in the bar, however, and ordered her own drink. A heated argument broke out between patrons and she intervened, mediating the dispute. The last thing Arturia wanted was a brawl. She could sense his eyes on her throughout it all. Eventually he approached._

_“My best friend is dead. Cancer.”_

_“I’m sorry for your loss. But hardly beyond comprehension.”_

_Such a typical, callous response fueled her self-loathing. Arturia stood by what she said, she just wished she'd said it better._

_“We are each our own particular universe.”_

_Arturia thought he’d consumed too much alcohol._

_“I had a friend who also passed to cancer.”_

_“Nothing is more terrifying than a dragon you cannot fight.”_

_She felt a sense of kinship with the stranger._

_“There's more than one way to fight.”_

_"I'm tired of fighting."_

_She was too._

_"I feel like I've forgotten how to live."_

_He looked at her strangely._

_“I’m a convicted rapist.”_

_She recoiled. Disgust filled her. Arturia stared at her beer._

_“I see.”_

_“I was young. I grew up in an environment where no one ever told me no. For a long time, I didn’t understand the concept. Or perhaps I didn't care. I just knew there was something wrong with me and no one saw it until it was too late. Then I met Enkidu. He was my lawyer. My parents are rich and influential. They’d already posted bail. Rape charges are difficult to prosecute. Enkidu urged me to plead guilty. He knew I’d done it. We wrestled in the street, once._

_“He said to me, he said, he – ‘You have done something wrong and now you should suffer the consequences for it. That is how the world works. If you take the easy way out, you will become the very thing you proclaim you despise. You told me you value the law. Are you a liar, Gil?’ I spent seven years in jail. In retrospect, Enkidu may have been just about the worst lawyer I’ve ever had. But I loved him for it.”_

_Arturia stayed quiet. Her eyes were opened to the fact that often the accused was also a victim. No one won a just war unscathed._

_Besides, what right did she have to cast the first stone? He served the punishment for his vile sin. Men bled before her eyes. She'd caused it. Deprived mothers of sons, sons of fathers. She was a murderer, rewarded for her crimes with platitudes she didn't deserve._

_She looked at him and saw a man who held his head high despite his past mistakes, despite being brought low by despair. He couldn’t change what already happened, but he could try moving on. Arturia admired that._

_“Why are you telling me this?”_

_“Because you remind me of him. I want to know you better.”_

_She remembered her previous failed relationship. 'You don’t know the first thing about people -- only what you decided people should be’. It hurt because Arturia knew it to be true._

_"I can be difficult to get along with."_

_"What a coincidence. I’m the same."_

_A few months later and they started dating._

Arturia leaves work exhausted. She feels tired and foolish. When Arturia returns home, she finds the car in the garage and the plate of leftovers gone. She swallows past the lump in her throat. Locks her jaw. Mental preparations complete, she seeks him out.

Gilgamesh waits in their bedroom. His tie hangs loose about his neck. They stare at each other, saying nothing and everything.

“I cannot abide fish,” Gilgamesh says. “By the way.”

“Any other complaints you’d like to register?” Arturia asks. Her reply is thick with sarcasm.

“Yes. But I’ll wait.” He smirks and then tilts his head. “How was work?”

“Awful.” She takes off her jacket. Gilgamesh follows Arturia around the room with his eyes. “You?”

“My employer is a dull-witted troglodyte,” he says.

“Be nice.” She tugs her hair free of its tight bun and sets aside the blue ribbon holding it up. Undoes the intricate braids. Her blonde hair has a slight wave as it falls about her shoulders. Arturia hears Gilgamesh shift. "Tokiomi is kind to offer you a position at all."

“If you're starving and a man offers you shit, should you gladly swallow?" This is melodrama and she doesn't dignify it with a response. "Come here.”

The authority in his tone causes her to face him. Arturia fixes Gilgamesh with a stern glare. Her ire from the previous night flares up.

“No.” Arturia folds her arms. Gilgamesh appears pissed, and for a split second, she thinks they’ll erupt into another vicious argument. Then he composes himself.

“Fine.” Gilgamesh watches her. They wait to see who will blink first.

“If you have something to say, then say it.” Arturia is snide. If she has to be the better person, then so be it. She sets her shoulders and braces for the worst.

“I…” Gilgamesh trails off. He breaks eye contact. Then he meets her gaze again, but now he wears that patented shit-eating grin. "I forgive you."

Arturia stares. He sounds so _smug_ as the words exit his mouth. The cheek of it takes her aback. Then she chuckles, because she gets the joke, and it is funny in its own way. More than that, she recognizes what Gilgamesh is doing.

An olive branch.

Gilgamesh will let go of his anger if she does the same.

“I forgive you, too.” She acts regal and imperious, but her mouth quirking upward ruins the effect. He snorts, and the warm noise causes her to draw near him, and rather quickly.

Arturia presses her forehead against his. For a moment they just look at each other and breathe one another's air. She tries recalling the trigger for their argument. An inane, offhand remark taken the wrong way, probably. And then she is too proud and he is too arrogant to back down, so it only escalates before spiraling out of control. Like dousing fire with oil.

Gilgamesh distracts her with a soft kiss. His hand tangles in her hair. Arturia murmurs something quiet and unintelligible. Then she wraps her arms about his neck and moves closer. She’s sitting on his lap at this point.

They haven’t had sex in quite awhile. Judging from the way Gilgamesh's hand creeps up her thigh and beyond her skirt, his thoughts run a similar vein.

He slows and deepens the kiss. Gilgamesh scrapes his teeth on her lower lip, and Arturia groans at the sensation. Her open mouth is an invitation for his tongue, and he accepts the unspoken offer without hesitation. She sucks on it, greedy, and tastes his breath catch.

Gilgamesh tightens his arms around her, his fingers kneading her rear and the back of her skull. Arturia’s skirt hikes up past her hips. He rolls his own, and she feels his rock hard erection. Lightheaded and aroused, she sighs as his tongue dips and rubs against hers. Suddenly Arturia breaks the kiss and shoves Gilgamesh onto the bed. He falls back laughing, and looks at her with a gentleness that peeks through the apathetic mask occasionally, like the sun on a clouded day.

Arturia straddles Gilgamesh and splays her small hands against his chest. She takes a moment to catch her breath. The fabric of his suit feels coarse under her hypersensitive touch. It occurs to Arturia that in their current position, rescuing Gilgamesh from the confines of his clothes might be difficult. Rather than relent and seek the obvious solution, she meets the challenge. Relishes in it.

She wriggles out of her skirt and underwear, the movement somewhat awkward. This causes Gilgamesh to laugh all the harder, and she feels his amusement quivering throughout his long, muscular body. Then she shucks off her blouse and her bra follows. Gilgamesh stops and licks his lips. The naked desire on his face sets her skin aflame. Fire pools in the pit of her stomach. Arturia flushes, a healthy shade of pink, eager for her lover to be in a similar state of undress.

Gilgamesh starts sitting up, expression hungry, but Arturia pushes him back down. She peels away his jacket and unbuttons the dress shirt beneath. Her actions are clinical and focused. He shrugs out of them and she tosses the unnecessary articles aside. Tracing his pectorals and well-defined abs, Arturia pauses and thanks God for blessing Gilgamesh with a beautiful body. Then she trails her hands along his navel and unzips his pants.

He sighs through his nose as his cock springs free. She tugs his trousers down and he lifts his hips to aide her quest. The pants are gone, although not without a brief struggle, boxers too, and they’re both naked as the day of their birth. Arturia grasps his length and finds comfort in the familiar weight. She brushes a thumb across the head. Tingles spark along her arms. The thrill of intimacy courses through her veins like lightning.

“Fuck,” Gilgamesh says, low and husky. She hesitates as she hovers over him. He looks at her, eyes hazy with lust, and then there is a flicker of understanding. No one else in the world knows her like Gilgamesh does. He smirks. “Come here.”

This time Arturia complies, muscles coiling with anticipation. They scramble further onto the bed. Arturia shimmies toward Gilgamesh, and leans against the headboard. She buries her face in the crook of her arm. She wants to savor what’s coming next.

Gilgamesh pushes her legs further apart. She feels his tongue delve into her soft folds and she jerks at the oral penetration. Gasping, Arturia bites her own bicep to muffle the sound. He laps at her. The flicks of his devilish tongue stroke the damp heat between her thighs. Arturia moans and blushes from the tips of her ears to her toes.

“M-more,” she chokes out. Arturia isn’t quite sure Gilgamesh hears her request. Then he adds one finger, followed by another, confirming that he most certainly has. "Ah, Gil..."

Gilgamesh radiates confident arrogance, anchoring her in place with a vice grip. She almost imagines the smirk on his face as he weaves his magic. Or Arturia would, but she cannot concentrate on anything other than the pleasure arcing through her arched body. The sound of sucking fills the air as Gilgamesh stimulates her clit, mingling with her pants and grunts. She ruts against him, in rhythm with the thrusts of his fingers. The headboard rattles and shakes from their movement.

Arturia can feel her orgasm coming, and fast. It takes a concerted effort on her behalf as well as the full brunt of her legendary restraint to halt. She tugs at his hair. When Gilgamesh pushes her away and resurfaces, she glances at him. His face is bright red and Arturia worries she has been smothering him.

“Are you –?” Arturia cuts off her question, startled, as Gilgamesh flips her onto her back and reverses their positions. She bounces atop the sheets and covers with a playful scowl. He slinks up her body and tweaks a nipple. Expression victorious, Gilgamesh wipes his mouth clean.

“My turn,” he whispers. She can smell her own musk on his breath. Arturia is annoyed she gave him the upper hand. She considers disputing the change, but in the end she allows it. Relationships are about compromise after all. Besides, Arturia’s close, dammit, and she aches for release.

“Don’t kiss me,” Arturia informs him. Gilgamesh laughs and guides her legs around his lithe torso. He positions himself above her and then sinks down. Dazed, she watches his cock slide into her. She pulses from the feel of him, thick and heavy compared to his fingers or his tongue, as Gilgamesh bottoms out.

 “Oh, fuck, yes.” He buries his face in the valley of her breasts and braces his arms around her. “You’re so wet, Arturia, fuck, fuck me, I need you so goddamn much.”

Gilgamesh has always been talkative during sex. His words take on a life of their own. They’re hot brands against her skin, and she is lying if she says it doesn't turn her on. Arturia winds her hands in his luxurious hair and clenches around him, giving Gilgamesh the pressure he wants. Her heels dig into his lower back.

He mouths encouragement against her chest, pulls out and then snaps his hips forward. Gilgamesh knows her, knows the angle to take her from, and it feels great. She moans and bucks, meeting his thrust. And then they’re overwhelmed by the heat of their wanton fucking.

Arturia sets a frenetic pace. She wants Gilgamesh to come before her. He happily obliges; he pounds into her, his strokes deep and rough as he enters her tiny body again and again. Gilgamesh babbles, each statement more vulgar and provocative than the last, and she burns bright red. Arturia doesn’t utter anything coherent, but she’s still loud.

Their bodies are slick with sweat as they move in unison. The sound of skin slapping together intertwines with frantic groans and breathless oaths, forming a discordant symphony. It is carnal and simple and pure in a way few things are.

Then Gilgamesh cheats, the bastard, and uses his fingers. All it takes is a few well-placed touches and Arturia is undone. She see stars and the moon and a comet blazing across the night sky.

Arturia makes a wish.

Gilgamesh rides her through her climax before following her over the edge. He loses it with a curse, and she can feel hot, sticky liquid filling her and then dripping down her thighs. He lifts his head and lightly kisses Arturia’s cheek. Then Gilgamesh falls beside her. They’re both breathing hard, needing time to recover from their coupling. It’s otherwise silent.

Arturia contemplates showering. But she’s drained and relaxed, the day’s stress catching up as the adrenaline wears off. Later. And she might even let Gilgamesh join her.

“We should fight more often,” Gilgamesh says, in his typical blunt manner. He spies the look on her face. “I’m _joking_.”

“Don’t. That was horrible,” she says. He nuzzles her, like an overgrown kitten, and his taller form spoons around her. Gilgamesh cannot be bothered hiding his conceited satisfaction. Arturia is too content to puncture his overinflated ego. Besides, he's earned it. She's going to be the good kind of sore, she can tell.

"Oh, do you want to hear more of my complaints now?" he asks, a tickle against her ear.

"Shut up." She smiles. Arturia doesn't know if this is what living is. She never talks about going to war, and he never talks about going to jail. But they are trying, and the companionship helps.

Gilgamesh continues speaking. She hears some of it, but she’s drowsy, drooping against his chest, gentle rise and fall proving hypnotic. He rests his chin atop her head. His pulse beats steady like a drum. The drone of Gilgamesh's voice halts, and a tender hand caresses her face. Soon after Arturia drifts off.

It is a dreamless sleep.


End file.
